Bearing His Seed
by Sky Samuelle
Summary: Nikita's POV on the events following The Music That Was Never Played.


Bearing His Seed  
  
I used to dream about sharing this with him, and never once did I believe my dream would come true. He seemed so genuinely marveled while he observed the first images of our baby moving on the screen. He searched my face with tears in his eyes like he needed my reassurance that this what I wanted too. As if he needed to know that I'm as happy about this as he is.  
  
He knows my fears because last night we stayed awake until it was very late and we talked.  
  
Actually I did most of the talking while he listened and calmed me, holding me, touching me and whispering in hushed tones of his love for me, and our baby in my ear. Replacing my insecurities and fear, with his calm resolve and with his trust. He does that a lot lately.  
  
He is so different from the top Section operative I once knew and grew to love beyond everything. Oh I know the operative is still there underneath the surface. Just as the Operations in me is always alert under this sophisticated, nice thirty-three-year old mother to be of good family appearance.  
  
Section can be technically out of our lives, but we never are free from it and it's never far from our minds. We live on the outside but we look for potential threats everywhere. It's the only way we continue to survive, if we let our guard down, we could lose everything.  
  
I don't give a damn about Section now.  
  
Even if sometimes I fault Michael for my mistakes as Operations; maybe if I hadn't felt so desperate and lonely for him, if I hadn't felt so empty without him, I would never have done anything so dangerous as blackmail Oversight. And I would never have done some of the shameful things I did in order to maintain the power I needed to change the system .  
  
Even if my father gave me back the freedom that was rightfully mine, and not cancel me after he faked his death. A death that laid heavy on my conscience for so many years. Sometimes this gift.this freedom tastes of failure.  
  
Even if the memories overcome me and I feel soiled with blood and I can't forgive my father for a release and absolution that came six years too late.  
  
Even if most of my faith is lost because I witnessed too many tragedies and betrayals and the only faith I have left is Michael.  
  
Even if I'm no longer the innocent girl who sees the world in black and white.  
  
Even if sometimes Adam looks at me like I'm stealing away his father.  
  
Even if sometimes I feel so consumed with my passion for him that I think I will disappear leaving no trace of ever having existed.  
  
Even if sometimes I'm afraid of the knowledge that I now have nothing left but his overwhelming, clouding love for this man.  
  
Even if sometimes I'm sacred and angered by this symbiosis between us because I no longer know where I end and he begins.  
  
Even if our child will never take the last name Samuelle.  
  
No, I won't give a damn because I now have Michael and a part of him is growing inside me.  
  
After our doctor's appointment Michael escorted me back to the car, after making sure I was safely belted in and settling himself on the drivers side, he turned, he looked into my eyes with those silver-green ones of his that tell me the truth or tell me nothing at all. He leaned in to kiss me so sweetly and chastely while reverently touching my small rounded belly where our baby grows, as if his touch could hurt our precious baby and me. and I knew.  
  
I KNEW that I have him deep down in his soul, and that I would always have him like this, as he will always have me. I have the power to destroy him, and the power to regenerate him because he lets me have that power. He loves me unconditionally. I'm not a mistake for him and he doesn't need me to be perfect or sweet or innocent for him to love me. Nothing will ever drive him away.  
  
We are having a baby girl, and the moment I found out my heart filled with such intense joy and love for this little person. It's a miracle. I can't wait to meet her.  
  
I know Michael feels the same way. Sometimes, when we are in bed, he lays his head on my stomach and in his softly accented voice he talks to her. He tells her everything, about how much he loves us, how he can't wait to hold her and how blessed he is to be having a little girl...his little girl.  
  
We already picked her name: Grace.Grace Hope or maybe Grace Desiree, we are not sure yet.  
  
Our daughter will have the life we lived so many years without. A life full of love, with loving parents, a big brother, a life lived without chains, a life lived free.  
  
If I close my eyes I can imagine our future.  
  
A future where we will always be free to love one another.  
  
A future where Michael and I grow old together. Where death comes to us when Michael and I have wrinkles and white hair.  
  
In my mind we have a home by the sea.our home, that has been filled with laughter and love. It's what I see every time he takes me in his arms at night when I can't sleep and asks me to tell him my most desired fantasy. My fantasies have always been filled with him.and every night the words and images come easier and more defined.  
  
God bless Michael of for it, Michael who is my everything, who dissolves me and fills me, who accepts my bratty and bitchy side. Michael, who I can love without limits and without fear.  
  
No I'm not making the mistake of thinking this is a fairy tale. With two people so headstrong and as different as we are it will never be a perfect bed of roses. Yet I have learned that the only thing worth risking all we have risked and enduring all we have endured is this sacred love we share. This love that has triumphed over everything, even over us. 


End file.
